The Song of the Game.

The sound of Leather on hardwood Classics, jerseys and sneakers on floor. These instruments accompany the Chorus of fans and haters In unison they roar. Deftly we move, we manouver You can call it a dance With a wish A common goal, A spheroid of gold, This bomb explodes with a swish! This dance we've created Mastered, debated We're pumped We're inflated with pride You've seen how we roll Got that gift of control And as Ballaz we stroll This stride. We divide and we conquer We detect the undetected The master strategy We expect the unexpected Deviously we play No one tells us how we do I'll have ya bodies movin' By the time that I'm through You may think this poem is tight May think this poem is lame But one thing you haven't listened to Is the song of the GAME.